


Tales of Thomas and Richard

by CharameticArk



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cage Crazy, Alternate Universe - Dreamfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Flirting, Closeted Character, F/M, Future Relationships, Gen, Multi, Not Beta Read, Teen Romance, Very little to do with UT, doppelgangers, mostly outcodes, updates randomly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-05 21:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17926520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharameticArk/pseuds/CharameticArk
Summary: In a highschool far, far away, two boys will meet, noticing they look exactly alike. Not for long. One is horribly unstable and aggressive, while the other is incredibly pacifistic and rather annoyed, but they're both to have quite a bit of conflict even if they avoid eachother.Woodside Academy isn't known for being normal, after all.





	1. Doppelgangers on Day 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Isaac Beamer Versus the Supernatural](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8470636) by [OneBizarreKai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneBizarreKai/pseuds/OneBizarreKai). 



> I read IBVS and couldn't help myself.
> 
> Name graph:  
> Icarus/Chrissy - IC/Cross  
> Garret - Garrote/Error  
> Tom/Thomas - Lucid/Dream  
> Richie/Richard - Smog/Nightmare  
> Adam - Azure/Swap Sans  
> Patrick/Trick - Scatter/Swapfell Red Sans

 It was a brand new year, so there were bound to be new faces. People who finally gotten old enough to switch to this school, people who were transferring, all to Woodside Academy–

 “‘The Fanciest yet Loosest Academy for Rich Bitches’.” Icarus snickered as his friend gave him a shove. “No, listen! This place is like, super expensive, but the uniforms are _optional_!”

 Garret glanced up at Icarus, giving him a fake-annoyed look, trying to fight a smile. “Yeah, but you know the codes. ‘No spaghetti straps, no shorts shorter than above the knee, no skirts shorter than _under_ the knee, no sandals or flip-flops, no’–”

 “C’mon, man, just let me enjoy my inner monologue.” Icarus responded.

 Icarus was a tall boy, having hit his growth spurt recently and _still_ growing, only at 16. Currently he was just over 6’2, which was _incredibly_ strange for girls.

 Icarus’s height being compared to that of a girl’s is simply because he’s trans, and still looks incredibly feminine. He hadn’t come out yet to anyone other than his closest friend, Garret, and had to deal with the most masculine thing on him being his shortly cut hair.

 His hair was a chocolate brown, with lighter brown, nearly blonde, highlights in it. It was a nice addition to his features, especially his eyes, which were heterochromatic. His left eye was a light blue, and the right was a dark brown, appearing to have a reddish tint under the right lighting, too. All of this framed pale skin.

 He was wearing the same clothes he usually did. A black cropped vest over a black long-sleeved V-neck, baggy black cargo pants, and thick black combat boots with white soles and laces. He was always jokingly called emo. He also had his backpack slung over one shoulder, being snow-camo in colors.

 Garret was much shorter, having barely hit puberty, being 13 and all, and standing at around 5’5”. He was only bound to grow a little bit more before he stopped, probably.

 His hair was a bright, cherry-red, and his eyes appeared to be the exact opposite with how startlingly blue they were compared to it. His hair was usually brushed up and to the side, though, giving it a bouncy flair. His eyes were mainly covered by circular, red-rimmed glasses, though. This all contrasted against his dark brown skin.

 He was wearing a red hoodie with blue sleeves and a blue hood on top of a red shirt with black writing for some band called ‘TFK’, with dark blue jeans and ratty blue sneakers that he had to replace. He was just a few minutes away from a dress code violation with those shoes. A red backpack was thrown over one of his shoulders, with black straps on it.

 Either way, they were bound to split up soon after, their conflicting grades also having conflicting classes. They went their own ways with a quick goodbye, the many halls of Woodside confusing for them both despite how long Icarus had been going there, and how many times Garret was told about where to go.

 The place was _massive_ , but certainly not something Icarus couldn’t handle.

 Icarus paused once catching his reflection in the window to one of the classrooms, their blinds shut and giving him a better view of himself. He took this moment to drop his backpack and grab at his chest, adjusting the tight-fitting sports bra he deigned to wear. He wasn’t out, nor did he have a binder, so he had to improvise. It was slightly uncomfortable, but he still dealt with it, adjusting it once more before deciding to finally return to where he was headed.

 His classroom had many students in it, as he had originally expected it to, but he noticed two that seemed to stand out… not against eachother, of course.

 They were new students, but they had matching appearances, a smirk quirking up on Icarus’s face as he walked over to the two, who were giving eachother confused looks. Icarus still had time before the teacher would arrive, Ms. Norbun was notorious for running late.

 “You two twins?” he asked, being sure to use his normal voice than the slightly deeper one he felt more comfortable with. One of the mirror-images glared at him, sending a shiver down Icarus’s spine.

 “I don’t even _know_ him.” the aggressive mirror hissed, the other rolling his eyes. They both had light brown skin, pitch black hair, and dark brown eyes, though the angry one’s looked vaguely blue and the annoyed one’s looked vaguely purple.

 Icarus shrugged, sitting on one of the desks nearby. “Hey, no biggie, not the first time we had doppelgangers. Look at Trick and Adam over there.” Icarus snapped his fingers, pointing at two figures who were chatting together near the back of the room.

 Both were blonde with bright blue eyes and fair skin, one appearing much more cheerful while the other looked as though he could barely stand being in the same room as the first. “Adam’s the one sweet as candy, Trick’s the asshole. You’ll wanna avoid them both, they both are kinda freaky.”

 The aggressive mirror growled at Icarus, “Don’t tell me what to do!” The annoyed mirror just looked a bit shocked at how rude his doppelganger was being. “Who even _are_ you?”

 “Christine, but everyone calls me Chrissy,” Icarus fought back the feelings of disgust as he introduced himself with the wrong name. “So, who are _you_ two?”

 “I’m Richard.” the annoyed one said, sighing softly. “This place already looks like a trainwreck.”

 The aggressive one growled at Richard before seeming to return to what he was thinking of before, introducing himself curtly with, “Thomas. Tom.”

 Icarus whistled, as if impressed. “You two are talkative, huh? Real bundles of sunshine! Okay, twinsies–”

 “Don’t call us that.” Tom hissed.

 “–I’ll be your lovely mother bird here! Now, first day is fun, but…” Icarus fell into his seat, already happily taking the two under his wing. He was happy to help and make new friends, and these two seemed…

 … _interesting_.


	2. Leah and Loverboy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Name graph:  
> Leah - Love

 Garret paused in the doorway of his first class, eyes scanning the room for any familiar faces. Upon catching one, however, his breath caught in his throat and he immediately ducked out of the doorway again, back against the wall and out of sight.

 Garret fumbled in his pocket for his phone, hurriedly opening the front-facing camera and using it to look into the classroom. Rather sneaky, if he did say so himself.

 Zooming in gave him a close-up on who he thought he saw, reminding him that yes, he was right.

 Leah was talking to one of her friends, standing next to their desk and looking kind of bored already before the class even started. Her hair was blonde and pulled back in a ponytail, bangs pushed back with a light blue headband, a bow placed on top of said headband. Her eyes were also a bright blue, similar to Garret’s own, all complimenting tanned skin.

 She was currently wearing a white sweater and dark blue skirt, the skirt reaching her mid-calves though everything else of her long legs were covered by white knee-high socks with small blue bows on them, and white sneakers. She was the dictionary definition of a ‘prep girl’, honestly.

 …And the dictionary definition of every 13 year old’s highschool crush.

 Garret lowered his phone, free hand covering his face. Why did she have to be in _his_ class, of all classes? They were in the same grade, yeah, but there had to be somewhere else for her!

 He didn’t want to redo the dance of West Lake Middle School, now, did he?

 Garret thought for a moment, not wanting to go into the classroom until he had a plan. One struck him soon after, making him open up his phone’s messenger and hurriedly scroll through his contacts. He was writing a message before he could even help himself.

   ‘– **ic what boys do girls like** ’

   ‘– **if that isnt offensive** ’

   ‘– **since youre a boy not a girl** ’

 Garret gnawed on his lower lip, already on edge just thinking of this. As if middle school wasn’t tough on its own, now he’s a _freshman_. It couldn’t get worse than this!

 A response was sent back rather quickly, making him both sigh in relief and want to squeeze his phone until it broke in nervousness.

   ‘– **Bad boys are no good, but good boys are no fun.** ’

   ‘– **Be a badass with a heart of gold, don’t make it hard for someone to see your good side, but don’t open up easy.** ’

   ‘– **Good luck, Casanova ;)** ’

 Garret’s eyes widened despite how obvious his intentions were with such a question, and he hurried to defend himself.

   ‘– **ITS NOT LIKE THAT** ’

   ‘– **its like** ’

   ‘– **purely scientific** ’

   ‘– **i swear** ’

 Garret could tell that his know-it-all best friend was rolling his eyes at such a response, and Icarus’s reply solidified that idea entirely.

   ‘– **Don’t you have class rn?** ’

 Garret huffed, simply turning off his phone in response and clearing his throat. Okay, be cool, but nice. Cool, but nice…

 Garret adjusted his jacket, sliding off his glasses and slipping them into his pocket. Everything was blurry, but cool guys didn’t wear glasses. Glasses are _nerdy_. It’s not like this would mess anything up, right?

 He was quick to slide into a seat nearby his ‘target’, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back into his seat. After no response, he glanced to the side, over at the one he was sitting next to.

 This close up, he realized that they very much did not have the same blurry figure of Leah. A quick blink of confusion shown that he couldn’t see them any better, but he heard the door to the classroom shut as soon as he considered leaning closer, catching his attention.

 While attention was no longer on him (hopefully), he sighed and slid his glasses back on, realizing that no, Leah was not next to him. She had moved to a seat in the middle of the room, and he instead was next to someone wearing a hoodie with the yellow colored hood up.

 He sighed, hanging his head in disappointment, and prepared himself for role call.

 

* * *

 

   ‘– **You get your girl, loverboy?** ’

 Garret sighed upon reading the text as his class ended, shaking his head as though Icarus could tell that through the phone. After a second, he opened up the messenger to type a reply, but was frozen stiff as a hand brushed over his shoulder.

 “Excuse me.” a voice said, Leah pushing by him quickly before finally disappearing out the door.

 Garret let out a soft breath, staring down at his phone again.

   ‘– **im getting some pretty clear signals, yeah** ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i woke up at 6:30 this morning and went "y'know what would be great"  
> also soz for these chaps being kinda short but i'm having fun so


	3. Outburst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had too much fun designing a teacher and aimed to make this a longer chapter, but there's a bit of an outburst/mental 'break' (just a bit of a meltdown) in case that might be a squick for you.

 Richie sighed softly as he glanced over at his splitting image again, Tom locking eyes immediately and glaring. Tom even had his lips curled in a snarl, Richie rolling his eyes and looking away.

 This kid had problems.

 At least Icarus was being nice, though Richie had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Icarus made a few jokes about Richie and Tom looking alike, and Tom seemed to grow angrier with each playful jab, nails digging into his desk.

 Richie found his gaze flicking back over to his mirror as the teacher continued on, instead looking at Tom’s hands. Blood was welling up underneath his nails from where Tom was clutching his desk, actually carving up a few marks with the splinters digging into his fingers.

 Richie’s eyes widened, but he quickly looked forward again. There was something wrong with Tom, and Richie didn’t plan on finding out when Tom’s breaking point would be.

 Richie’s family had scrounged up enough money to get him to a better school, but when the sudden inheritance flooded in from Richie’s grandfather, all the money said to be used to help Richie’s future, Richie was instead transferred to this fancy place. He was hoping it would be a fun time, but he felt as though the life-or-death feelings from his old school would be dragged over by Tom.

 Tom was a new student, too, Richie learned. He was never even seen in this _country_ before. Icarus tried to get more information about where Tom was from, but only managed to guess by Tom’s very slight accent that he was from somewhere in Japan before this. The accent was quick to be snuffed once Icarus pointed it out.

 Tom and Richie both were mixed, it seemed. Richie’s mother was from Mexico and father from Japan, and Tom also managed to have similar features. The brown skin and slightly slanted eyes fit Richie’s own appearance perfectly, considering they were apparently nonrelated twins of some sort.

 It was oddly uncanny.

 Richie snapped back to focus when Ms. Norbun, the teacher, had dropped her binder. Richie noticed how, in the corner of his eye, Tom flinched rather violently and appeared to be watching Ms. Norbun like a hawk as she picked it up again.

 …Richie hated the idea of snooping, but he felt as though he might have to find out this guy’s story, especially if it was as intense as it looked.

 

* * *

 

 Icarus wrapped an arm around Richie’s shoulder as they exited the class. His other arm was slung over Tom’s, Tom tensing up and staring at Icarus with wide, deranged, twitching eyes. “Now, where do you guys gotta go next, twinsi–”

 “I’M NOT HIS TWIN!” Tom suddenly shrieked, “I DO NOT KNOW HIM! _I AM NOT HIM_! WE AREN’T TWINS!” Icarus yanked his arm away from Tom, tightening his grip on Richie instinctively. “STOP MIXING US UP!”

 “D-dude, it was just a joke–” Icarus tried to console and calm Tom down, the entire hall seeming to have frozen to stare at him. Ms. Norbun had even poked her head out from her classroom.

 Tom looked around, hands shaking as he realized how many people were watching him. “…Stop staring. STOP FUCKING STARING AT ME!” he shouted again, voice cracking as he continued, “I’LL MAKE ALL OF YOU REGRET THIS! I’M NOT HIM! I NEVER WILL BE!”

 Tom suddenly broke into a sprint, shoving through the crowd of students and disappearing. Everyone seemed to stare for a while longer before cautiously returning what they were doing, Richie shrugging off Icarus’s hold.

 “That… was weird.” Icarus said, smiling slightly as he looked down at Richie. “Guess he couldn’t handle the pressure of staying here, huh?” Richie rolled his eyes in response, shaking his head and making Icarus add on, “Anyways. Let’s let him cool off. What’s your next class?”

 Richard pulled his schedule out from where it was tightly folded into his pocket, looking over the times. The chatter in the hallways returned to its previous volume and energy. “Mr. O’Riley’s class.”

 Icarus’s eyes lit up. “History is my favourite! Don’t worry, O’Riley’s an amazing dude, you’ll love him, too.” Icarus wrapped an arm over Richie’s shoulders again, guiding him off. “After that drama king, you deserve a cool class. I can waste time guiding you off before I disappear to my own stuff, you’ll be all on your own.”

 Richie sighed at the realization of that. “I guess I will be, huh?” He felt oddly downcast about the idea of not having what seemed to be his first friend guide him around. Icarus gave his shoulders a gentle shake.

 “C’mon, dude, you’ll be fine! I’ll meet you up at the door when my class ends, too. I’m your mother bird for a reason. Your seeing eye dog. Your–”

 “Enough’s enough.”

 “Man, you have no sense of humor, do ya?”

 

* * *

 

 Icarus was right. Mr. O’Riley was an older fellow, but he looked pretty fun – a bushy grey mustache waxed to a handlebar that he playfully twiddled when choosing someone to call on, suspenders covered in badges that said things from ‘HISTORY is a MYSTERY’ to ‘Rust In Piece’ over a picture of a rusty knight’s chestplate, and a fancy bowtie that he adjusted whenever someone was wrong.

 He slipped in jokes and puns into every paragraph, getting groans and eyerolls from the class, but he also gently corrected anyone who had trouble. It was a nice change compared to that shouting match Tom had just a few minutes ago.

 Richie found himself smiling as the class was dismissed, Mr. O’Riley ending it by saying, “And I hope this is a warm welcome to all the new students here! And remember that you can come to me after school if you need anything, especially if it’s an Ark.”

 At the confused looks he got for that last part, the goofy teacher winked.

 “Because I **Noah** guy.”

 A collective groan was heard, only interrupted with some giggles and snickers strewn about.

 

* * *

 

 Richie only had to wait a few minutes before Icarus shown up near the classroom door, just as promised. Icarus was holding up his phone, Richie looking at it in a bit of confusion before getting an idea.

 When Icarus was finally in front of Richie, Richie had already pulled out his phone. “Knew you were a bright one! Math’ll be your forte, considering you’re already mastering numbers.”

 Richie rolled his eyes, trading phone numbers and saving Icarus as ‘Christina’. “Leave the jokes to the masters. I’ve heard enough already.”

 “C’mon, O’Riley is the bomb.” Richie huffed, but Icarus didn’t let him reply to that, “Anyways, where to, next, my new best friend?”

 “Wait– Aren’t you worried about Thomas?” Richie suddenly reminded Icarus of the doppelganger, Icarus sighing.

 “I haven’t seen him around, but I doubt he’d want to be near you, anyways. If I see him, I’ll ask what happened, okay? We’re bound to share _one_ class.” Icarus was quick to add an afterthought, “Maybe you should dodge him, though. Dude sounds like trouble.”

 Richie looked away, eyes scanning over the full halls. “Maybe you’re right, but… I still have empathy. He looks like he was overwhelmed pretty badly. I’m worried for him.”

 Icarus put a hand on Richie’s shoulder and said, “Listen, he’ll be fine, okay? You shouldn’t mess with someone like that, anyways. He sounds dangerous already. Now, next class?”

 Richie sighed, pulling out his schedule again. “If you say so…”


	4. Losing Track of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for implications of alcoholism (very very VERY minor)

 Maverick felt the wind get knocked out of him when someone rammed into him, the person literally growling and making fear and confusion climb up Maverick’s spine. “DON’T GET IN MY WAY!” the other shouted, making Maverick flinch.

 The person had run off before Maverick could even get a good look at them. Maverick huffed, shaking his head and disappearing into the bathroom as he had originally planned on doing, immediately looking over his appearance in the mirror.

 At first, when he moved here in sophomore year, he expected to be bullied. He had vitiligo, lots of pale splotches littering his light brown skin. Most noticeably was the one over his cheek, looking a bit like a smudge of light paint. When none of the hatred he expected happened, it actually eased his view of himself pretty quickly. No one seemed to care, so why should he?

 Besides this was black hair usually pushed into a backward slick, and heterochromatic eyes. His left eye was green, and his right eye was light brown. He quickly realized he wasn’t odd for that feature, either; another person in school had heterochromia as well. It was like a huge band of misfits.

 Currently he wore clothes that edged the rules and made the teachers either grin at his craftiness or glare at his gall. His shirt was a thick-strapped tank-top, black, that just barely avoided the spaghetti-strap title, and his pants were dark brown shorts that ended directly at his kneecaps. Black suspenders hung from his sides, too. Up to under his knees were socks with a camo print, and checkered black and white vans that looked ready to fall apart if he did so much as speedwalk.

 Still, he was comfortable, doing a quick pat down before leaving the bathroom and hurrying off to grab his water bottle from his locker. P.E was never a kind class, but he considered himself one of the best.

 After all, he was the captain of the track team. He had worked hard to get to that point.

 His teacher was a middle-aged woman, but she clearly had lots of energy, and was quite the frightening figure. She hit the stereotypes of “mean gym lady” perfectly, her voice not as shrill as expected but deep and threatening nonetheless. Her name even seemed cliché enough to fit, too.

 Ms. Alpha. She was aggressive and threatening, with dark skin and grey eyes that cut through someone like a hot knife through butter, her hair in thick black dreads with a few early grey hairs. She was quite clearly strong, being around 6 and a half feet tall, absolutely towering over the teenagers she worked with, and with a body the perfect mix of buff and fluff.

 Despite Maverick being one of the best students when it comes to physique, she still seemed to have a problem with him, sending him glares when he did so much as mess up.

 Now was no different as everyone lined up right along the track out behind the school, Ms. Alpha pacing in front of all of them. Intimidation was her strongest asset besides her body.

 Her eyes narrowed whenever someone slouched before she spoke, voice coming out as a borderline growl.

 “One mile. Fifteen minutes.” The students knew better than to groan or complain in front of her, moving to line up at the track. She crossed her arms in front of them, the whistle around her neck being brought to her mouth. “I don’t want any of you lagging behind.”

 She didn’t need to shout to be heard, but the whistle still seemed louder than her voice ever could be, everyone breaking into a run as soon as its shrill shriek was heard.

 

* * *

 

 Maverick fanned himself as he finally slowed to a stop, heaving for breath as his fellow classmates made a beeline directly to the fountains, Maverick glad he took his bottle and quickly uncapping it to swallow most of the contents.

 He was quick to choke on a rather strong taste, but reflexively swallowed the bitter liquid nonetheless. Maverick was coughing as he pulled away, wiping at his mouth, and tried to recognize the taste.

 Maverick glanced over the metal bottle for where he carved his initials, but a hand suddenly swiped the bottle from him instead. Maverick glanced up just in time to see the teacher glaring down at him, one hand on her hip the other holding the bottle.

 “I’ve gotten an ‘anonymous tip’, Tribit.” she said venomously, “It doesn’t put you in a very nice light.” Maverick glanced behind Ms. Alpha, seeing another classmate giving a twirl of the fingers as a wave towards him. He immediately recognized the other as one of the ‘Villains’. One of the school’s biggest bullies.

 “…I don’t understand what you’re implying, Ms. Alpha.” Maverick said, looking up at Ms. Alpha again. He adjusted his stance and straightened his back, matching her gaze and offering no lies. “If this has to do with Carter–”

 “What does he matter?” Ms. Alpha interrupted, lifting the bottle higher to her face and giving a sniff. Her eyes suddenly widened, practically flaming with rage, fear suddenly stiffening up his shoulders. “How old are you?!”

 Other students were looking over upon hearing her shouting, having rarely heard her raise her voice. “I-I’m… I’m 17, ma’am.” Maverick answered, cursing his shaking voice and yet not looking away from her angry glare.

 “Is this funny to you?!” she demanded, “You’re supposed to be responsible!”

 “I don’t understand what you mean, ma’am!” Maverick responded, stepping back. Ms. Alpha never laid a hand on any of the students, but her words seemed vicious enough.

 Ms. Alpha suddenly quieted down, voice coming out as a snarl. “Drake’s office. Now. Take this with you, and don’t you _dare_ pour it out.” She shoved the bottle into Maverick’s hands.

 He looked down at it, already dragging his feet as he went to walk towards the office. The ones who had been watching him quickly looked away now that the show was over, Maverick left to stare at his bottle in confusion.

 He cautiously raised it up to figure out what Ms. Alpha had smelled, eyes going wide and head snapping up to look for the one who had taunted him earlier, but Carter was nowhere to be found.

 Maverick huffed, shaking his head and being left to go to the principal’s office on his own.

 How fun that his first day of this new year was going to involve him probably getting suspended because someone else filled his water bottle with _alcohol_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha get the chapter title  
> it's a pun  
> running track  
> keeping track of things  
> maverick lost his water bottle and it got tampered with


End file.
